PEOPLE have been telling jokes for thousands of years. The earliest recorded gag can be traced back to the Sumerians in the Middle East in 1900 BC and is about flatulence. Some things never change.

The Ancient Egyptians enjoyed a laugh, quite often with sexual innuendo, and the Ancient Romans had a sense of humour.

The Emperor Augustus told the gag of how he was walking through Rome to the adulation of the crowd when he noticed a man who bore a striking resemblance to himself. Intrigued he asked: “Was your mother at one time in service at the Palace?” “No your Highness,” the man replied. “But my father was.”

Everybody has told jokes. They are told in the pub and in the trenches. They can set you belly laughing or alleviate fear and danger. Laughter is good for you: it can improve health and outlook and release stress.

Which is why last week we were discussing the funniest joke in the world ever.

Rick Welburn from Shepley offers a couple to the debate.

“I accidentally swallowed some scrabble tiles. That could spell disaster.”

And wait. There’s more.

“Just booked a table for me and the wife for Valentine's Day. It’s bound to end in tears though. She’s rubbish at snooker.”

Which I think is rather good.

Elsie M Eva of Lepton was more subtle: What did St Patrick say as he drove the snakes out of Ireland? “Are you all right in the back there?”

In a recent poll that listed the top 50 gags, it was nice to see Tommy Cooper had more than anybody else. And he’s been dead for almost 30 years. He died on stage, telling jokes.

Here’s one of his: I said to the gym instructor: “Can you teach me to do the splits?” He said: “How flexible are you?” I said: “I can’t make Tuesdays.”

His delivery has been copied by more modern comics: I went down to my local supermarket and I said: “I want to make a complaint. This vinegar’s got lumps in it.” The bloke said: “Those are pickled onions.”

Among the funniest stories is one sent by Lynne Schofield which could just be true.

During the recent snowfalls, a pre-school teacher was helping one of the children put on his Wellington boots. She pulled and pushed and had built up quite a sweat by the time she eventually got them on. Then he said: “Miss, they're on the wrong feet.”

Sure enough, they were, and it wasn’t any easier pulling them off than it had been putting them on. She kept her cool as she put them back, this time on the right feet, only for him to tell her: “These aren’t my Wellies.” She bit her tongue and again started the process of removing the ill-fitting boots. No sooner were they off than he said: “They’re my brother’s Wellies. My mum made me wear them.”

The teacher took a deep breath and started all over again, pushing and pulling, until they were back on his feet.